


want your fire on me

by angstinspace



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Camping, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Promare (2019) Spoilers, tent sharing, they are both super oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23235223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstinspace/pseuds/angstinspace
Summary: "Actually, that was part of why I brought you here."Lio stares at him, waiting for Galo to elaborate."You know, because you told me you were feeling cold.""And you thought bringing me to a frozen lake in the mountains would make me feel less cold?"Galo pouts. "I wasn't finished yet! I was thinking ..." He pauses as if for dramatic effect, rubbing his hands together. "... We could build a fire."or, Lio feels cold without the Promare, and Galo tries to help.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 46
Kudos: 338





	want your fire on me

**Author's Note:**

> so, way back in like...september i went to go see promare with my friend [casey](https://twitter.com/kevinkevinsonnn) and immediately became obsessed with it. pretty much right away, casey suggested we do a promare art/fic collab together and i was like HELL YEAH!!! 
> 
> so casey drew [this beautiful comic](https://twitter.com/kevinkevinsonnn/status/1241125163665633280) which inspired me to write this fic, and...yeah!! only took me like six months to finish it (sorry casey) but here it is! 
> 
> just wanna put a big fat spoiler warning on this fic because it takes place post-canon, so there are a lot of spoilers from the movie. otherwise can't think of anything else to warn for except galo and lio both being so oblivious that it hurts. 
> 
> thank you first of all to casey for collaborating with me and for drawing the gorgeous art that inspired this story! and thank you to [jessie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parchmints), [noelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/generichero), and [miranda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bdisneystreet) who graciously beta'd this fic. 
> 
> and i think that's it! so yeah hope y'all enjoy!! ♡ brigid
> 
> (title comes from "[landslide](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_2kNPv9X8I)" by caveboy)

It’s been two months since the world burned.

Two months, and Lio is still growing accustomed to the absence of fire in his blood. He counts each day like a tally mark etched into his mind, sunrise after sunset, linked together by long days of labor and long nights of restless sleep.

He tries to lose himself in all the cleanup he has to do during the day. As it turns out, rebuilding an entire city is not an easy task. Burning the world to the ground may have seemed like a brilliant plan when he was running high on adrenaline, but the aftermath has been exhausting. 

There's debris to clean up, people to relocate, food to ration. In some ways it’s not too different from all the work he used to do for his fellow Burnish, putting together refugee camps and making sure everyone stayed safe. But at the time, his ability to create was balanced by the power to destroy––the voice inside him begging to be let out in a scream of rage, an explosion of sparks and multi-colored flames. He's learning, bit by bit, to live without that side of himself … but it's difficult when it feels like an integral part of his soul has been stripped away. 

Over and over again, he relives the moment of separating from the Promare––the heat collecting and leaving his body like a long sigh, coursing up his arm and out of his fingertips. Remembers cupping it in the palm of his hand for that final moment, feeling the pulse of its inner life, the warmth radiating from it as if it were silently thanking him. Then the feeling of letting go, watching it separate from his fingertips to join its brethren in the sky like thousands of shooting stars, vanishing into the darkness on their journey home. 

Although he knows that sending the Promare back to their own dimension was for the best––that otherwise Earth would have been destroyed, that all along he was just a host housing a restless spirit––he can't ignore the gnawing sense of emptiness that lingers behind. Strangely, he misses the voice that used to whisper through him, the electricity in his veins, the inner fire smoldering inside his ribcage.

It felt like he was never alone. 

Not that he's alone now––in fact, quite the opposite. He's surrounded by people _constantly_. The citizens of Promepolis are all bustling to bring the city back to life, and though most of them are too busy with their own tasks to pay him much attention, there are still plenty of interactions to navigate. There are those who thank him with teary eyes and outstretched hands––and though it's not the first time people have hailed him as a savior, it still feels strange, especially now that he feels so powerless, especially now that everything is in ruins around them.

To make matters worse, there are still those who sneer in his direction. He can practically hear the unspoken hate––the word _Burnish_ like a crack of knuckles against his jaw––even though he is no longer the fire-wielder they once despised. 

Sometimes he doesn't know whether he saved these people or damned them.

What he does know is that he's trying to find comfort in the small glimmers of hope he sees around him: families and friends gathered together and helping each other even in the midst of the rubble. He's also glad to see the other former Burnish among the townspeople, even though he knows it will still be a while before they’re fully accepted. And he still has Gueira and Meis around to keep him company, although they’ve also been busy assisting with all the cleanup.

The past few weeks have been a series of ups and downs, a dizzying blur of events, an exhausting whirlwind of emotions.

And at the center of the chaos, perhaps the most perplexing thing of all, is Galo Thymos.

Now that’s a whole other problem that Lio is trying to solve––or not a _problem_ , exactly, but a very confusing knot of feelings that he’s frantically trying to unravel. Except every time he tries to untangle it, the threads just criss cross each other in even more bewildering patterns. 

It's strange, really, because just a few months ago he had never even heard Galo's name before. But then Galo quite literally came crashing into Lio's life, loudly announcing himself and demanding to be fought. And Lio willingly rose to the challenge, fury sparked by Galo’s cocky grin and boldfaced arrogance. Lio hated him at first––hated Galo, hated Burning Rescue. 

But from the start, he found himself oddly ... _intrigued_. Mainly because, as he quickly discovered, Galo wasn't all talk. He was reckless, wild, fast on his feet. A worthy opponent. 

That inkling of curiosity only grew with each of their interactions, as Galo surprised Lio at every turn. He had expected Galo to be just like the rest of them, to turn a blind eye on the atrocities committed against the Burnish. 

But he saw an unexpected change in Galo … not even that Galo had made a conscious decision to change, but that he genuinely _understood_ when Lio told him what Kray was really doing to the Burnish. It was obviously difficult for Galo to accept at first, but it wasn’t long before he was willing to fight by Lio’s side. 

He was shallow at times, not always the brightest, and still completely full of himself. But in their combined effort to bring down Kray and prevent the world from exploding, Lio noticed more and more admirable qualities in Galo. He was somehow both arrogant and extremely selfless––throwing himself into danger in a way Lio initially dismissed as idiocy until he saw how every time, Galo came back out alive. There was a passion and enthusiasm in him that was almost contagious, something that mirrored Lio's own fiery ambition. 

At any rate, the whole experience felt like a sudden plunge into deep water––not unlike the dive they took to the bottom of the frozen lake. Lio never expected that he'd go from despising Galo to grabbing him by the hand and proposing they burn down the world together. 

Ever since then, things between them have been ... confusing. One day, they were forming Galo de Lion, minds and souls connecting as they set the Earth ablaze and freed the Promare. The next, they were overlooking the ruins of the city and picking up the pieces of everything they destroyed.

There's been an odd sense of distance between them despite everything they went through together, partly just because they've been so busy dividing up all the work that needs to be done. But Lio still sees Galo often, standing out like a beacon amongst the other citizens of Promepolis with his trademark crooked grin and bright blue hair. 

He seems to almost thrive in the midst of it all, throwing himself into his day-to-day work with the same enthusiasm he's always used to put out fires. People seem to flock to him like moths to a flame, thanking him for his service while he basks in the glory––in a way that is somehow charming rather than infuriating ... maybe simply because Lio knows that Galo means well.

On more than one occasion, Lio has seen Galo kneeling down to comfort a teary-eyed child; at one point, Lio even saw a whole group of kids surrounding Galo while he flexed his biceps and let the children take turns hanging from his arms. 

He wasn't kidding, either, when he told Lio he would stand up to anyone who discriminated against the former Burnish. There have been a few instances where Lio has witnessed him confronting a citizen who made a scathing remark, squaring his shoulders and pointing a finger and firmly reminding the perpetrator that the Burnish have always been and always will be human beings, and that a Burnish helped to _save the world_ , in case they forgot.

Fortunately, Galo hasn't had to confront too many people about it––not that Lio has seen, anyway––but each time he's seen such a scene unfold, it sparked something unexpected behind his sternum. At first he thought it was mere gratitude, but he's coming to realize that it feels like something more than that. Something more like ... _fondness_. 

Lio mulls it over as he helps with today's task, which is helping to unload crates of supplies from a helicopter and sort them into trucks going out to different parts of the city. After a while, he barely feels the ache in his muscles anymore, lost in thought as he lifts another crate and starts carrying it to the nearest truck. 

He spots Gueira in the near distance, dusting his hands off on his jacket as he heads towards the helicopter to gather more supplies. He waves in Lio's direction with a smile. 

"How's it going, Boss?"

There’s something so natural about the greeting, Lio can’t help the smirk that rises to his face. In a sea of uncertainty, it’s comforting to find that sense of familiarity. 

“I told you, you don’t have to keep calling me that.” 

Gueira shrugs, stopping about an arm’s length away. “Hey, you’re our fearless leader who saved the world. Still seems fitting to me.”

Lio feels his smile falter a little at that. He wants to believe what Gueira says––that despite not having the Promare anymore, it doesn’t mean that Mad Burnish is truly dead. But right now, it's hard to believe. He knows it's probably for the best that he's no longer torching buildings to the ground with his friends––but also, that's the only purpose he's known for a long time. 

When Lio doesn’t say anything, Gueira tilts his head with a questioning look. "You okay, man?" 

"Oh ... yeah, I'm fine." Lio shudders, rubbing at his arms. It's not _too_ cold out, but there's a slight chill in the air and he's only wearing a baggy T-shirt that Galo lent him. "It's just ..." He hesitates before letting out a short breath, lowering his voice. "Do you miss it?" 

"Miss what?"

Lio doesn't answer right away, suddenly regretting that he brought up the topic. He lets out a short huff and looks away. "The Promare," he says at last. He still tries to keep quiet, conscious of all the people milling around the area. 

"Oh," Gueira says with a sudden note of understanding. He contemplates the question, lifting one of his hands and examining it carefully, as if he expects a trace of fire to still linger there. Then he lets it drop down again, heaving a sigh. 

"I miss it sometimes," he admits. "I guess it's a good thing not to have the urge to burn and destroy everything anymore. But yeah, I'm still getting used to it. I keep kinda forgetting it's not there." He smiles faintly, but the expression drops when he looks up at Lio again. "Why? Do you ... ?" 

He doesn't complete the question, but he doesn't need to. Lio tries not to flinch––and he knows he's a hypocrite, since he's the one who brought it up in the first place. But he doesn't know if he's ready to talk about it, if he can even put the emotion into words––how to describe the empty feeling like something significant is missing. 

"I––" he begins to say, but he stops short when he notices that Gueira is looking over his shoulder. There's a sudden, mischievous glint in his eyes that immediately puts Lio on high alert––because he knows Gueira only gets that teasing smirk on his face when someone specific is around. 

"Hey," he says, elbowing Lio in the arm. "Look who's over there."

Lio is almost embarrassed at how quickly he whips his head around to see, his heart rate immediately kicking up. 

Sure enough, Galo Thymos is strolling in their direction, although he doesn't seem to have noticed them yet. He stands out in the afternoon light, blue hair contrasting with the bright red of the FDPP hoodie he's wearing. He stops to help a woman struggling to lift a heavy crate into the back of a truck, taking it easily from her hands as if it weighs nothing. Lio can't hear their conversation from where he stands, but he sees the woman give a slight bow of her head in thanks as Galo returns the gesture with a friendly smile.

He turns around as if he's about to walk back in the other direction, but right then Gueira calls out, "Hey, Galo! Over here!"

Galo looks up, a mystified expression on his face before he sees Gueira and Lio and breaks out into a grin. And ... okay, since when did Galo's smile make Lio feel like his heart was literally lurching out of his ribcage? "Lio! Gueira!" He jogs towards them. 

" _Gueira_ ," Lio hisses. 

"What? You were too busy staring to get his attention, so ..."

"I swear––"

Lio probably would say a few more choice words, but he cuts himself off abruptly as soon as Galo is within earshot. 

As always, Galo walks with his shoulders squared and a confident swing in his step. Lio doesn't know how he does it. No matter how many hours he spends on his feet, how many obstacles he faces in a day, Galo never seems to show a single sign of fatigue. He could literally walk through fire and come out grinning on the other side. 

"Haven't seen you two in a while!" Galo greets them, coming to a stop. He fist-bumps Gueira and then gives Lio a firm pat on the back, which makes an involuntary electric feeling run up Lio's spine. "How’re things going?"

"Not bad," Gueira answers. "Still a lot of supplies to hand out, but it's going smoothly."

"All in a day's work, right?" Galo grins crookedly and crosses his arms over his chest, looking over at Lio expectantly.

The bright blue of his eyes catches Lio off-guard for a moment. He coughs and manages to answer, "Right." 

"Man, I've been on my feet all _day_ ," Galo says, stretching his arms above his head. "And now I gotta go meet up with Ignis and help build some more shelters. Not easy being a savior of the world."

He speaks the last sentence without the slightest hint of irony. When Lio first met him, he probably would have dismissed such words as complete arrogance. But now––knowing Galo, knowing that his desire to help people comes from a genuine place in his heart and not just for the attention––it somehow doesn't bother Lio at all. In fact, it's almost … charming.  
Which is a word he never would have imagined himself thinking about Galo Thymos the first time they met. 

Gueira chuckles. "It's too bad you can't stick around for a while."

"Yeah," Galo agrees with a sigh. "We've all been so busy, there hasn't been a lot of time to hang out." His expression brightens again. "But hey, I'm not doing anything tonight if you guys are free."

"Sorry, man. I've got plans," Gueira says. He claps a hand on Lio's shoulder. "What about you, Lio?"

Lio is suddenly very conscious of Galo's gaze lingering on him, blue eyes bright and eager. 

"Oh ... yeah. I'm not doing anything," Lio finally says. 

"Nice!" Galo fist-pumps the air. "Okay, I'll need to think of something to do. I don't know what it's gonna be yet, but it'll definitely be awesome." 

His grin is bright enough to rival the sun, and Lio can't help but to timidly return the smile. It only lasts a second, though, before the cheerful expression fades from Galo's face and a confused furrow forms in his brow. 

"Are you okay?" 

It takes a second for Lio to process the question, and it's then that he realizes he's still hugging himself tightly. He lets his arms drop to his sides. 

"I'm fine,” he says. “Just getting used to the cold, that's all." When Galo only blinks in bewilderment, he adds, "The Promare used to keep us warm all the time, so ..." 

Galo's eyes widen with sudden understanding. "Oh," he says. "How come you never said so? I would've given you something warmer to wear."

A sudden idea seems to occur to him, and his bright demeanor returns. "Here." He shrugs his hoodie off without a second thought and holds it out at arm's length. 

Lio stares at the dangling red garment, dumbstruck. He looks from the offered hoodie to Galo's earnest expression and back again before he finally finds his voice. 

"Oh ... thanks."

He's not sure what else to say or do, so he just takes the hoodie from Galo's hands. He can tell already that it's going to be too big for him, but he shrugs it on anyway. The sleeves are too long so he has to push them up a little, but surprisingly he finds that he doesn't mind the large size of it. It's already warm from having been on Galo's body for a while, and Lio finds himself unwittingly pulling it closer to absorb that warmth. 

It's only then that he realizes that Galo is still watching him, with a slightly anxious look on his face like he's waiting for Lio to say something. 

Lio just stares back at him, at Galo's tight-fitting black T-shirt and exposed arms. 

"Won't you be cold?" he blurts. 

Galo only gives him a puzzled look in return before he breaks out into a smile again. "Nope, not me," he says, then points a thumb at himself. "I have my burning firefighter soul to keep me warm!" 

Lio scoffs, but finds that he can't help but smile. The first time he heard Galo utter the phrase he'd deemed it completely nonsensical and idiotic. But weirdly, it's starting to grow on him. 

He's trying to think of what to say in response when he notices that Galo is studying him with a sudden thoughtful expression, scratching his chin and making a contemplative "hmm" noise. 

Despite the chill in the air, Lio's face feels warm. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just think I have an idea." Galo smiles widely. "Meet me over by the bridge at 6 o'clock." 

"What? Why––"

"Don't be late!" Galo cuts him off before he can finish the question. "Bye, Gueira. I'll see you later, Lio!" 

He winks and turns on his heel, dashing off as if he's trying to outrun a wildfire. 

Lio can only stand and watch, stupefied, as Galo weaves his way through the crowd and disappears around the corner. He doesn't realize he's still staring after Galo until he hears a faint chuckle next to him and it makes him jump in surprise. 

He turns to see that Gueira is grinning slyly at him––a look that makes the tips of Lio's ears burn with embarrassment.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Gueira says defensively, holding up his hands. Then he claps Lio on the shoulder. "But hey, I think that sweater suits you well."

There's a teasing lilt to the words, and Lio might have expected it to make him angry. But instead, he's surprised by a warm feeling that flickers to life in his chest. Something almost ... excited. Euphoric, even. 

_What the hell?_

He pushes down the feeling and tries to come up with some kind of scathing retort––but instead he just lets out a short huff in response, as Gueira continues to smirk at him mercilessly. 

"Anyway, I should probably get back to work." Gueira pats him on the shoulder. "Have fun tonight, Boss!"

Lio almost forgets what Gueira is referring to before the full reality of it hits him––he's going to be hanging out with Galo tonight. Alone. He doesn't even know what they'll be doing or where they're going ... but the mere thought of it makes a sudden panic flare up inside him like a match being lit. 

Before he can even say anything, Gueira takes off towards a group of people sorting supplies into crates. Lio almost calls after him but then thinks better of it, releasing a short sigh as he turns away. 

He doesn't know why, but his heart is beating unusually fast and he feels lightheaded. Is something wrong with him? He doesn't understand why the prospect of spending time alone with Galo has put him into such a state.

After all, it's not like he's never been alone with Galo before ... although in the past, it was usually in the context of them battling each other, or piloting a giant robot together and saving the world––two things that he's pretty sure they won't be doing tonight. Yet, somehow, just spending time together seems more intimidating than either of those things. 

Lio breathes in deeply––and as he does so, can't help but inhale the faint and pleasant smell of the hoodie he's wearing. It's a subtle and clean scent––probably just the smell of laundry detergent, with a hint of something vaguely citrus-y underneath it. But it occurs to him how familiar it is, how somehow there's something distinctly _Galo_ about it––and not only does he recognize it, but it's also strangely comforting. 

There it is again––that weird jumping feeling right behind his sternum, the burst of heat that seems to pump from his heart all the way to the tips of his fingers. It almost feels like––

Wait. 

Lio's body goes rigid, and the rest of the world falls away. His hands shake, and he hesitantly lifts one of them, pulling the red sleeve of the hoodie back a little as he stares at the palm of his hand. 

No. It's not possible. 

Yet, he can't seem to extinguish the smoldering feeling that rushes through his veins, that rushes to his extremities and settles there as if waiting to be released. 

Lio hastily pulls his sleeve down and looks around, but no one seems to be watching him at the moment––they're too preoccupied with whichever tasks they're assigned to. Before anyone can take any notice of him, he ducks between two of the parked trucks and stumbles into an empty alleyway. 

The narrow space is dark and littered with rubble, the crumbling walls on either side of him striped with black scorch marks. Lio ducks behind a pile of fallen bricks and kneels down. His breathing is shallow and fast, and the world seems to grow smaller like the walls are closing in on him. 

It takes him a few deep breaths before he feels relatively steady, and then he tugs the sleeve of the sweatshirt back and stares down at his clenched hand. He didn't realize before now how hard he'd been digging his fingernails into his palm, and he winces as he uncurls his shaking fingers. And ...

Nothing happens. 

He turns his hand over and sees no sign of anything out of the ordinary. No fluorescent colored sparks between his fingers, no heat radiating in his bones. Just blue veins and cold skin.

"Of course," he mutters, tipping his head back against the wall behind him. "What was I thinking?" 

The Promare is gone. He knows that. He knows he'll never wield the flames again, never hear the echoes of their voices or feel their power burning through his veins. 

So then why does he feel like there's a flame inside him that still hasn't gone out? 

––

True to his word, Galo meets Lio by the docks several hours later. The sun is already dipping towards the horizon, casting a golden glow that makes the city ruins look strangely ethereal. 

Lio is standing by the side of the street, shivering as he shoves his hands into the pockets of the sweatshirt, when he hears the growl of a motorcycle engine approaching. He looks up to see the familiar red bike speeding around the corner with Galo seated behind the handlebars, hair fluttering madly in the wind. 

"Lio, hey! You made it," Galo calls, bringing the motorcycle to a stop right by the curb. He scoots a little further up on the seat, and gestures at the space right behind him. "Hop on!" 

Lio didn't realize he was smiling until now, but he feels the expression drop from his face as he suddenly processes the situation. He hesitates before stepping forward, pausing as he stops next to the bike.

He doesn't know why he feels so nervous all of a sudden. After all, he's been on a motorcycle more times than he can count. It's more that the idea of being on a motorcycle _with Galo_ makes a strange prickling sensation travel up his spine. 

He notices that Galo is watching him over his shoulder now, an eyebrow raised. "Everything okay?"

Lio's face feels warm and he hastily looks away. "Yes," he says. "I was just ... Are you sure there's enough room for both of us?" 

Galo glances down at the space right behind him, frowning as if he’s trying to mentally take a measurement. He shrugs one shoulder. "Yeah, there's plenty of room! Now come on, I wanna get there before it gets dark."

Having run out of excuses, Lio only hesitates a moment longer before he climbs onto the motorcycle behind Galo. "And where is 'there', exactly?"

In response, Galo only chuckles before turning to face the road again. "It's a surprise," he says, hands tightening on the handlebars. "Now, hold on tight or you're gonna go flying off."

Lio is about to ask what exactly Galo expects him to hold onto, when the engine growls loudly back to life and the bike starts to veer away from the curb. With a short cry, Lio throws his arms around Galo's waist.

He doesn't fully realize it until they've traveled around the street corner, and then Lio suddenly becomes aware of how his arms are wrapped tightly around Galo's torso, his forehead pressed up against Galo's spine. He lifts his head, blinking into the wind as it whips his hair into his face. In the corner of his vision, he can see part of Galo's expression reflected in one of the rearview mirrors––mouth turning up at one corner in a smirk. The sight makes Lio's heart do a somersault, but he chooses to ignore it for now. 

"Where are we going?" he shouts over the growl of the motorcycle engine and the roar of the wind. 

"I told you, it's a surprise! But you're gonna love it, just wait and see."

Although Lio's instinct is to argue, he has a feeling Galo isn't going to tell him where they're headed. Besides, he finds that he's not as irritated as he probably should be––although he rolls his eyes, he feels a hint of a smile rising to his face. 

For now, he just settles into place and tries to enjoy the ride. It's been a couple months now since he was on a motorcycle, and he didn't realize how much he missed it. It doesn't feel as wild and uncontrollable as the flaming motorbike he used to summon with the Promare, but Lio still feels a small thrill run through him as Galo leans forward and picks up speed, driving them rapidly down the long and empty road. 

Lio turns his head slightly, just enough that he can get a better view of the scenery passing by. Something about the ruins of Promepolis is especially striking and strangely beautiful in the light of the setting sun––the golden light winking off of shattered glass, the remnants of buildings casting long shadows across the ground. 

Part of Lio feels guilty at the sight, knowing that they did this, that he and Galo burned it all to the ground. But as ironic as it seems, it also brings a sense of hope––the same thing Lio felt directly after they'd saved the Earth from combusting, when he and Galo had stood overlooking the city and vowing to rebuild it together. It feels almost cathartic now, a cleansing of sorts, the destruction of a broken society and the beginning of a new one.

It isn't long before they reach the outskirts of the city, turning onto a winding road that snakes its way towards the mountains on the horizon. Lio is tempted once again to demand where they're going, but something holds him back. There's something oddly peaceful about the moment that he doesn't want to shatter––especially as they leave Promepolis far behind, and tall pine trees are soon towering above them on either side. 

Lio is accustomed to the wide expanse of the desert, so the atmosphere of the dense forest is something he isn't used to. But he finds that he enjoys the safe and enclosed feeling of it. The tall pines loom over them like silent guardians, the light of the sunset winking from between the branches.

Lio is grateful that he's still wearing Galo's hoodie, because the air grows colder as they travel further up the mountain. The wind only contributes to the temperature drop, and Lio shivers and ducks his head down a little to avoid it. He realizes suddenly that he's scooted closer and closer to Galo over the course of their journey––arms wrapped firmly around Galo's middle, the side of his face nearly pressed up to Galo's back. 

Normally he would feel embarrassed by their close proximity, but right now escaping the cold is his number one priority and ... well, Galo is _warm_. Maybe it's because Lio hasn't had much close contact with others in a long time, but he's honestly a bit surprised at just how much heat Galo's body is generating right now––and that he doesn't seem to mind the chill in the air, despite only being dressed in a T-shirt. Perhaps there's some truth to his claims about having a "burning soul" after all. 

Finally, the crowded trees grow more scattered until they break into a wide clearing. Lio peeks over Galo's shoulder and intakes a sharp breath at the sight––because right ahead of them is the flat, gleaming surface of a frozen lake. The light of the setting sun glances off the reflective surface, and illuminates the surrounding trees with a golden hue. 

Galo pulls the motorcycle to a stop at the edge of the clearing and turns off the engine.  
"Here we are!" he announces, swinging his leg over the side of the bike and jumping to the ground. 

Lio climbs down after him, observing the scenery. The surface of the lake stretches out all the way to the horizon, where the dark outline of mountains stand starkly against the sky. 

"What is this place?" he asks. 

Galo stands at the edge of the lake, hands on his hips. Upon hearing Lio's question, he turns around with an eyebrow raised. "You don't recognize it?"

"Should I?"

"Well, I would think so, since we fell into it and all. And discovered Deus's lab underneath it."

The words don't hit Lio right away––but when he suddenly understands, his eyes widen. "This is that same lake?" When Galo gives him an incredulous look, Lio huffs and crosses his arms. "Hey, you can't blame me for not recognizing it right away. It was _dark_ when we fell into it. Also, a lot of things happened on that day."

"Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right," Galo concedes, stretching his arms up and folding his hands behind his head. "Anyway ... it's pretty neat, huh?"

A faint smile returns to his face as he turns to look out over the lake again. "Before we melted it, it was frozen solid all the way through. I used to skate around on it, but I don't think the ice has gotten thick enough again."

As if to test his theory, he stretches out a foot and experimentally steps on the surface of the lake. The ice creaks under his weight, and a spiderweb of cracks branch out from around his boot before he quickly draws it back.

"Yeah, looks like we're not doing that. But it's still really nice just being out here. This has always kinda been my 'spot,' you know? For when I get stressed out or whatever."

Although Galo conveys this with an air of nonchalance, Lio notices a glimmer of fondness in his eyes. Lio finds himself studying Galo's profile in the dusk, his features highlighted in the fading light. Lio has a sudden sense of revelation, like he's seeing a side of Galo that he's never witnessed before. Or if he has, he's never noticed it. 

He's used to thinking of Galo as being _loud_ ––shouts and exclamations, enthusiastic hand gestures. But he seems much more subdued right now, a faint smile rising to his face as he takes in the tranquil scenery. 

"I know what you mean," Lio says without thinking. 

Galo turns to look at him questioningly. 

"I mean ..." Lio breaks eye contact, gesturing towards the scenery. "I see why you like it. It's ... nice. Peaceful." 

He almost winces at how forced the words sound, but Galo still grins in response. "Yeah! Exactly."

There's a certain enthusiasm to his voice that's strangely contagious, and Lio smiles back. A brief silence hovers over them, but somehow it feels amiable and not awkward. 

"Thanks," Lio says, "for, uh ... for showing it to me."

He wishes he could convey how genuinely he means it. When he was leader of Mad Burnish, there were times he was so terrified and overwhelmed that he needed to isolate himself from everyone else. He was often on the move from place to place––but no matter where he was currently staying, he always found a peaceful spot where he could be alone when he needed it. A small cave, a rocky plateau under the stars. He knows how much it means to have those little safe havens, and how significant it is to share them with someone else. 

"And thanks again for lending me this," he adds, gesturing towards the red hoodie he's still wearing. He starts to tug at one sleeve. "If you want it back––"

"Nah," Galo cuts him off, crossing his arms. "You can keep it. I have, like, a million FDPP hoodies. That one was kinda small on me, anyway."

"Oh." Lio pauses, fingers still clenched into the sleeve. His mouth feels dry. "Okay. Thanks."

"Don't worry about it," says Galo, then clears his throat. "Actually, that was part of why I brought you here."

Lio stares at him, waiting for Galo to elaborate.

"You know, because you told me you were feeling cold."

"And you thought bringing me to a frozen lake in the mountains would make me feel less cold?"

Galo pouts. "I wasn't finished yet! I was thinking ..." He pauses as if for dramatic effect, rubbing his hands together. "... We could build a fire."

The words don't register at first––and when they do, Lio is certain he misheard. 

"We could ... what?" 

"You know, the old-fashioned way! With sticks and matches and all that stuff." Galo scratches the side of his neck. "I know it probably won't be as powerful as the Promare flames, but ... I thought it might at least help you feel a little warmer."

Lio finds himself speechless at the offer, and a bit taken aback by the thoughtful intention behind it. 

Galo must mistake it for a negative reaction because he quickly adds, "I mean, we don't have to. But, I thought it could be fun. And I brought along a tent in my motorcycle compartment, 'cause I thought it could be cool to camp out next to the lake for the night. You know, just a way to kinda get away from things for a little while. But if you don't want to––"

"No," Lio interrupts him. "I mean ... yeah. That sounds nice."

The words seem to surprise Galo, and he straightens a bit as his eyes brighten with excitement. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Lio says with a shrug. "I've ... never really been camping before."

He realizes it's not _entirely_ true. There have been many nights he's slept in some kind of makeshift shelter, or even just out in the open under the stars. But that was always out of necessity and not for his own enjoyment. 

"You haven't? Oh, man. You're gonna love it," Galo says enthusiastically, clapping a hand down on Lio's shoulder. "Anyway, we should probably start building that fire before it gets dark." 

Lio tries to ignore the odd warmth that rises to his face at the sudden physical contact. He lets out a scoff. "I thought you said firemen weren't supposed to build fires." 

He means it as a joke––for the most part, anyway––but Galo's smile is immediately replaced by a thoughtful frown, like he's carefully considering Lio's words. 

"Well, not usually," he says. "But as a firefighter, it's my number one duty to help people. And you told me you were cold––so if building a fire will help you with that, then I think it's okay."

He starts to sound a little hesitant as he reaches the end of the sentence, raising one eyebrow slightly at Lio as if to say, _Right?_

Lio feels the teasing smirk fade from his face, surprised that Galo gave such a genuine response ... and even _more_ surprised that Galo just admitted to wanting to help him. 

Although, he supposes it shouldn't come as a shock. He and Galo are friends now, after all ... aren't they? He knows that, of course, but somehow he still feels like he's treading in new water. It was almost easier when they were on opposing sides, because at least back then it was fairly clear what their dynamic was. But this––whatever _this_ is––feels like very different, very confusing territory. One that Lio is getting hopelessly lost in. 

When Lio still doesn't say anything, Galo crosses his arms. "Besides," he says, "it's not like it's the first time I've started a fire to help you."

Lio narrows his eyes. "What are you––" he starts to say, but then stops abruptly as the realization hits him. _Oh_.

It's not like he's forgotten that Galo saved his life. Quite the opposite, really––he thinks about it more often than he cares to admit. But neither of them has really broached the subject until now, and Galo's sudden acknowledgement of it makes Lio feel as if he's been dunked into cold water.

Not that there's much to discuss or anything. Galo would've done the same thing for anyone else, after all. Yet, Lio finds himself revisiting the memory repeatedly, picking apart the details as if to find some hidden meaning underneath it. 

There's been more than one occasion where he's laid awake at night remembering how it felt to be pulled back from the brink of death, remembering the feeling of Galo's solid arms holding him and the sight of his relieved smile. Remembering how the rekindled flame in his soul had felt _different_ somehow––different after he'd given it to Galo for protection, and Galo had literally breathed it back into him. 

His face grows warm at the thought, and he quickly looks down and kicks at a small stone near his boot on the ground. He realizes he hasn't said anything for an awkwardly long time. 

"Yeah," he says. "I guess you're right."

He suddenly wants nothing more than to change the subject, and Galo seems to sense it based on the way he shifts on his feet and clears his throat. 

"So ... do you want to look for some firewood? I was thinking I might start setting up the tent."

"Yeah, that uh ... sounds good."

"Good. Okay." 

Without making eye contact, they turn to walk in opposite directions. As he wanders back in the direction of the nearby woods, Lio winces as he internally agonizes over that whole conversation. 

They may have only just gotten here, but he already has a feeling it's going to be a very long night.

––

Lio has built enough bonfires in his lifetime that searching for the right kind of firewood is as easy as breathing. 

He starts by searching for larger scraps of wood and dried tree bark, before moving on to gathering a number of fallen sticks that will serve as the kindling. Lastly, he finds the tinder––small twigs, some dried leaves, and a few handfuls of long pine needles. He clears out a space on the ground at a small distance from the water's edge and starts arranging the wood. 

The task feels familiar and calming, and it's not long before Lio loses himself in it. He's grateful to have something to occupy his mind for a while, and hardly notices as the light starts to fade from the sky ... or when he hears a pair of footsteps shuffling up behind him. 

A shadow falls over him, and Lio tenses as he looks up to see Galo standing there. Neither of them speaks for a moment, as Galo stands with one hand on his hip and the other scratching absently at his jaw. He observes the pile of firewood with an inquisitive frown, as if it's an object from another planet. 

"Is something wrong?" Lio asks.

"Hm? No, no. I was just ... I finished setting up the tent, so I thought I'd come watch what you're doing. I've never really built a campfire before, so ..." Galo trails off, one corner of his mouth turning up in a crooked smile. There's something almost timid in the expression, like he's afraid he offended Lio somehow. 

"Oh." Lio shifts over a little, sitting back on his heels. "I can show you, if you want."

Apparently that's enough of an invitation for Galo, because his smile immediately widens and he crouches down next to Lio. He sits a little closer than Lio was expecting––so close that their shoulders nearly brush, and Lio feels like the hairs on his arms are standing slightly on end. Probably because of the cold. Yeah, that must be it.

He almost forgets what he’s supposed to be doing, then clears his throat as he turns his attention back to the jumbled pile of wood in front of him. Then he's not sure where to even begin. He's done this so many times, it's difficult to figure out how to explain it step by step to someone who's never done it before.

"Well ..." he starts, grabbing a handful of tinder. "First, there are the different types of wood ..."

He shows Galo all the differently-sized pieces, explaining how each type plays its own role in the creation of the fire. At first he stumbles over the words a bit, but it isn't long before he falls more naturally into the explanation. 

Surprisingly, he finds that Galo is an excellent listener and eager to learn––his facial expressions shifting between a perplexed frown when something confuses him, and a bright smile when he finally understands. At no point does he seem impatient or judgmental, and he only interrupts Lio to ask the occasional genuine question. 

Lio walks through the steps––from laying down the tinder, to building a small cone of kindling around it. When Galo asks about the larger logs, Lio explains they'll be added once the fire is actually going. 

"Then this is the part where I'd normally, um ..." Lio comes to a sudden stop. 

Galo tilts his head. "Part where you'd what?" 

Without answering, Lio looks down and glares at the waiting pile of sticks. He's surprised––and more than a little embarrassed––to feel a sudden lump in his throat, and he's afraid to even respond out loud. Instead, he just slides his hand out from underneath his sleeve, looking down at his exposed palm. He thinks of that moment back in the alleyway where he could have sworn he felt the echo of fire in his veins––but now there's nothing but a cold emptiness, a silence in his bones that makes him feel suddenly vulnerable. 

"Oh," Galo says, with a soft note of understanding. Lio doesn't look at him, but he hears the way Galo inhales slowly and lets it out again. "Well, that's okay! Here, I brought matches." He reaches into one pocket of his jeans and then the other, before letting out a small but triumphant "ah-ha!" when he finds what he's looking for. With a friendly smile, he clutches the box of matches between his fingers and holds them out towards Lio like they're the greatest prize in the world.

Something about the sincerity of the gesture eases Lio’s nerves, although the aching feeling doesn't completely go away. Still, he quells it for now and takes the matches from Galo's hand with a subtle nod of thanks. 

His fingers shake a little as he unfolds the matchbox and pulls one of the matches free. Then he pauses, examining the tiny red-tipped stick with an inexplicable anxiety curling in his stomach. Something about this just feels so _wrong_ , and he doesn't fully understand why. He has a general understanding of how to light a match, and he's done it before, but ... well. For many years, he thought he would never have to do it again. 

He places the end of the match against the strip on the matchbox, and steels himself as if he's about to set a broken bone. Then, he strikes it.

The immediate spark sends a strange jolt through him, and he swears he can almost feel a twin sensation bursting to life behind his sternum. As the tiny flame appears at the end of the match, Lio finds himself completely entranced by it. It may be small––but even so, Lio knows from experience that every inferno begins with nothing but a spark. He remembers the sensation of cupping a flame in the palm of his hand, of letting the fire envelop his whole body, giving into the uncontrollable desire to burn. 

The burning match is different from the Promare flames; it's much more contained, and it gives off a yellow-orange glow rather than the vibrant colors he's grown accustomed to. Yet, he feels drawn to its warmth, as scarce as it may be, as the tiny flame crawls down the length of the match and leaves nothing but blackened wood in its wake ...

"Lio? ... Hey––hey, Lio. _Lio_." 

Galo's voice––hesitant at first and then suddenly more urgent––breaks through Lio's stupor. But the warning is already too late. Because right then, the fire reaches the base of the match and burns Lio's fingertips.

He isn't expecting the small shock of intense heat, and he hisses in surprise as he drops the match on the ground. The little flame sputters and dies, effectively breaking the spell that it held over Lio only moments ago. 

Startled back into reality, he curses under his breath as he wraps his unharmed fingers around the ones he just inadvertently burned. It doesn't hurt _that_ much, but his heart is still pounding and he can't seem to draw his focus away from the small but throbbing pain. 

Then, suddenly, he feels a strong grip around his wrist. 

"Lio, are you okay?" Galo demands––and there's an undertone of panic to it, like he thinks Lio has gravely injured himself. 

It takes Lio a moment to find his voice. "Yes, I'm fine," he manages, although he practically has to say it through his teeth. 

"Are you sure? Let me see it."

Before Lio can protest, Galo takes hold of his hand and uncurls his fingers––a gesture that somehow feels both firm and gentle at once––and turns his palm upward. Still holding onto Lio's hand, he lifts it up slightly to squint at it in the fading light.

Normally, Lio would pull away. But something keeps him from doing so; instead, he sits stock still, hyper-aware of Galo's firm grasp around his wrist. His pulse has unexpectedly picked up, and he prays that Galo can't feel it. 

"Hmm ... looks okay, but it's a little too dark out here to see," Galo says at last. "But I brought a first aid kit if you need––"

"It's fine, Galo." The words come out a little more sharply than Lio intended. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Really. I appreciate the offer, but ... it's fine." 

Galo doesn't say anything, lifting his gaze from Lio's burned fingers to examine his face––as if searching for evidence that Lio isn't telling him the truth. But then his shoulders relax, his grip loosening around Lio's wrist but still remaining.

It's now that Lio realizes just how close they're sitting together, how his wrist is tingling where Galo is touching it. Lio's focus narrows to that point of contact, and he can't help but notice how _warm_ Galo's hand feels, and––wait, what is he thinking?

Lio quickly pries his wrist free, curling his fingers closed again. He ducks his head down, but not before he sees the expression on Galo's face––a small furrow in his brow like he's trying to figure something out. He's still being strangely quiet, and Lio wishes he would say anything at all to disrupt the lengthy silence. 

When Galo still says nothing, Lio clears his throat. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I ... I haven't been burned in a long time." 

Galo hums in understanding. "Right, the Promare flames didn't burn you."

Lio manages a small nod, and tries not to wince when he realizes how his fingers are starting to smart with a stinging pain. "Just have to get used to it, I guess," he says. 

The words come out with more bitterness than he intended, but there's no taking them back now. Besides, he can't really help it––he's _tired_. Tired of all the new things he has to get used to. The persisting cold that always seems to grip him, the way fire burns his flesh, the aching emptiness inside him where the Promare used to be. 

If Galo senses his frustration, he doesn't comment on it. Instead, after a brief silence, he extends his hand. "Do you want me to do it?" 

Lio breaks out of his troubled thoughts to stare in bewilderment, before he realizes that Galo is reaching for the matches. "Oh," he says. "No, it's fine. I can––"

"No, really. I want to try it," Galo insists. And there's such an earnest note in his voice that convinces Lio he's telling the truth and not just saying it out of pity. 

Truthfully, Lio feels a surprising sense of relief as he picks up the matchbox again and hands it over to Galo. "Do you know how?" he asks––and then realizing that maybe it sounded a bit condescending he adds, "I mean, have you ever lit a match before?" 

"Not that I can remember," Galo admits, "but it's not too hard, right? You just kinda scrape it on the stripe thing, right?" 

Lio can't help but smile a little at that description. "Right. And you have to do it really fast. Then you want to light up the tinder at the center of the pile."

Galo gives a solemn nod as if he's been assigned a life-or-death mission. "Got it," he says, before frowning down at the matchbox. It takes him a couple of attempts––his brow furrowed in deep concentration––to successfully light one of the matches, and he yelps in surprise when the flame bursts to life. But fortunately he doesn't drop it and he manages to follow Lio's instructions; he sticks the lit match into the center of the small wood pile Lio constructed, then quickly pulls his hand away again. 

The tinder quickly catches light, darkening and crumbling as the flames consume the small twigs and leaves, before the fire begins to twist and climb its way into the kindling.

Next to Lio, Galo lets out a small gasp of delight. "Whoa ... I did it. I lit the fire!" 

There's more genuine excitement to the words than Lio might have expected, and he turns to look at Galo in curiosity. And when he sees the expression on Galo's face––his smile wide, his eyes reflecting the flames and gleaming with pride––something unexpected flutters in his chest. 

He huffs out a small breath. "See? It wasn't so bad, was it?"

Galo's smile falters as he seems to take the question into consideration, but he grins again as he turns to look at Lio. "You know what? No, it wasn't. It was ... actually kind of fun."

"Wow. Wait 'til your friends at Burning Rescue find out you're an arsonist now." 

At that, Galo immediately stops smiling and his eyes widen. It's a look of such abject horror that Lio can't help but laugh. 

"Sorry, sorry," he manages to say. "I was just kidding." 

A puzzled look lingers on Galo's face, but then his shoulders relax somewhat and his easy smile returns. "Lio Fotia," he says, "did you just make a joke?"

Lio isn't sure what it is––maybe just the sound of Galo speaking his full name––but for some reason he briefly feels as if the air has been squeezed from his lungs. He pouts in mock offense. "What, you think I can't make a joke?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I just meant, you don't usually ..." Galo trails off, scratching the back of his head in hesitation. "I mean, uh. I'm glad that you made a joke. And I haven't heard you laugh a lot of times. It's ..." 

He stops abruptly, a mildly panicked look overcoming his features. It's difficult to see in the flickering firelight, but Lio swears for a moment he can see the faint trace of a blush on Galo's face. But it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared, and Galo turns away again. 

“Anyway,” he says, “when should we add the, uh …” He gestures towards the larger scraps of wood that haven’t been added to the pile yet.

Right … Lio nearly forgot about those. He feels strangely dazed, as if someone just hit him over the head. He clears his throat. “Pretty soon. We just have to wait until the kindling is really burning.”

Galo nods, focusing intently on the fire. Lio keeps studying his profile in small glances, feeling a flicker of amusement at the way Galo keeps staring at the flames like a watchdog––but he supposes it makes sense, considering Galo is used to keeping fires under control rather than letting them grow. 

It doesn’t take long before the small flames merge together into a single tendril of fire that climbs upward and spits sparks into the air. Once the fire has grown large enough, Lio adds one of the large scraps of bark and carefully nudges it into place, careful to keep his fingers a small distance from the flames this time. 

For the next few minutes, Lio tends to the fire in silence, except for the occasional brief explanation to Galo about what he’s doing. Soon he adds a small log to the center of the flames, which smothers the fire somewhat, so he crouches down to blow softly at the embers. 

“What are you doing?” Galo asks him.

Lio pauses, drawing back from the fire a little. “It’s the oxygen,” he explains. “It keeps the flames from going out.”

Galo’s eyes brighten with understanding. “Oh.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Lio can see Galo still watching him in fascination when he leans down towards the fire again. As if in a meditative state, Lio inhales deeply through his nose and exhales onto the base of the firewood again. With each breath, the embers glow nearly white and the fire snaps with sparks as it roars back to life. 

When he's finally satisfied with the brightness of the flames, he sits back again and lets out a quiet sigh. There's something inherently comforting about bringing the fire back from the brink of death, breathing life back into the flames, feeling their warmth wash over him and spread all the way to his fingertips.

He doesn't notice right away, but now he becomes aware that Galo is watching him with a somewhat dazed expression––and suddenly it's more than the heat of the flames that warm Lio's face. He wonders if the same thought is going through Galo's head right now––that his process for reviving the fire just now was not unlike how Galo saved him not long ago, breathing into him and rekindling the fire in his soul. 

The thought brings a faint tingling to his lips that he desperately tries to ignore. But it's hard not to think about how he felt the same thing when he woke up after nearly dying, the phantom sensation of Galo's mouth against his still lingering. It's not the first time he's thought about it with a nagging sense of curiosity, wondering what it would've felt like if he'd actually been awake, but––God, why is he thinking about this _now_ , when Galo is still staring at him, and when they've both let the silence stretch out for far too long?

Lio looks away first, turning his attention back to the fire blazing in front of them. He distracts himself for the time being by watching the ethereal shapes that form and dissipate at the heart of the flames.

"Turned out nicely, huh?" Galo says at last. 

"Hmm?"

"The fire. It came out pretty good." Galo stumbles over the words a little, a hint of hesitation in his voice like he's not sure what else to say. He gives Lio a thumbs up and a wink. "Good team effort." 

"Oh," Lio says, and manages a small smile. "Yeah. Not bad for your first time starting a fire." 

_Second time_ , his mind unhelpfully corrects him, but he chooses to ignore it. 

Galo doesn't seem to notice the mistake; he makes no comment as he shifts closer to the fire, sitting cross-legged and rubbing his hands together near the flames. He tilts his head up, the orange glow dancing across the angles of his face, and lets out a soft gasp. "Whoa ... Lio, look up!"

Lio follows his gaze, watching the trail of sparks that wind upwards. He didn't realize how fast the darkness has fallen, that stars have scattered across the night sky. At this point they're still emerging, but there are already constellations visible against the dark expanse. Besides the treetops and the distant mountain peaks spanning the horizon, there's nothing obscuring the view. 

"I'm still not used to being able to see so many stars," Galo explains, keeping his voice somewhat hushed like he's afraid of disturbing some invisible entity. "I mean, it's a little different now that the city is, uh ... not what it used to be. But for a long time, it was always so bright in Promepolis even at night, you couldn't really see the stars, y'know?"

Lio nods, still looking up at the glittering trails across the sky. “Yeah. I mean, I was usually out in the desert at night. But whenever I was in the city, there were so many lights everywhere I didn’t even really think about looking up at the sky.”

He doesn’t mention, of course, that his purpose for being in the city was usually to burn buildings to the ground, so he didn’t have much time for stargazing. But he figures that’s beside the point.

Galo just makes a small humming noise in response, still observing the sky above them. When he looks over at Lio again, he has a faint smile on his face. "Things sure are different now, huh?" he says. "If just a few months ago someone had told me that soon I'd be making friends with a Burnish, punching Kray in the face, burning up the whole planet, and then having to rebuild all of Promepolis ... I wouldn't have believed them for a second."

When he puts it that way, Lio has to chuckle a little at the absurdity of it. Although, he feels a slight squeezing feeling in his stomach at Galo still calling him a Burnish despite him not having the Promare anymore––also at the fact that Galo referred to them as _friends_ , which brings on a confusing combination of warm surprise and something that feels strangely like disappointment. Lio has a sneaking suspicion as to why, but he's terrified to even think about it right now. 

Pushing the thought away, he draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. "Can't say I expected it, either," he says. "That and ... well, didn't expect to find out I was bonded to a fire alien." 

_And then to lose that bond within a matter of hours_. As he thinks it, his arms tighten around his knees and his eyes sting as he stares deep into the fire. 

But before he can lose himself in melancholy thoughts, he suddenly processes everything that Galo just said. "Wait––did you say you punched Kray in the face? When did _that_ happen?" 

"Hmm? Oh, right," Galo says, like it's something he only remembered just now. "Guess you missed that while you were ..."

He winces and trails off––but Lio understands what he means and feels slightly sick as the realization hits him. This must have happened when he was dying, when he was turning to ashes on the floor. He flexes his fingers a little as if to remind himself they're still there, then manages a small nod at Galo to convey he should continue.

Apparently understanding the signal, Galo takes a deep breath and goes on, "So ... yeah. Basically Kray tried to kill me, but luckily your flame protected me––again. Anyway, then I punched him out."

He punches his fist into his other hand as if to illustrate, and grins boastfully as he says it. But there's something about it that doesn't quite reach his eyes. That, and Lio is a little surprised he's never mentioned it before––after all, he usually loves to brag about his accomplishments. There must be a reason he's been holding it back.

“That must’ve been really hard,” Lio finds himself saying. He didn’t exactly mean to say it out loud but—well, there’s no taking it back now. The smile drops from Galo’s face, and Lio scrambles for something more to say. "I just mean, I know that you really looked up to Kray for a long time. It must've hurt to be betrayed by him like that. And to stand up to him." 

He stops himself from continuing, mentally chastising himself for everything that just came out of his mouth. He meant it to sound comforting, but he has a feeling he just made Galo feel even worse by bringing it up. 

Surprisingly, though, Galo doesn't look offended. If anything, he looks ... thoughtful, as he plops his hands down on his knees and drums his fingers against them. A muscle in his jaw tightens as he seems to mull over Lio's words. 

Finally, he shrugs. "I don't know. In some ways it was hard, and in some ways it wasn't. Like, yeah, Kray was my hero for a really long time. I thought he had saved my life, so I felt like I always needed to make him proud, or––you know, to make him feel like I'd been worth risking his life and losing his arm and all that.

"So when I found out about the experiments he was doing ... I didn't want to believe it. It was hard to believe that someone I'd admired so much could do something so horrible." 

A distant look seeps into his eyes as he stares into the flames, and Lio feels a knot of guilt in his stomach. He recalls that day back in the cave when he first confronted Galo about the experiments the Foresight Foundation was doing, remembers the look of horror and disbelief on Galo's face as his perception of the world shattered.

Lio really thought at the time that Galo and the rest of Burning Rescue had known about and supported Kray's massacre of the Burnish––and even when he realized that wasn't true, he expected Galo to just turn a blind eye. He knows better now, of course, and wishes he could apologize for the hurtful things he said back then. He didn't know Galo at the time, and he'd been a bit blinded by grief after failing to save Thyma and watching her turn to ashes. 

But before he can say anything, Galo is already continuing, "It wasn't easy to accept at first, but I couldn't just ignore it and act like it couldn't possibly be true. And then when I confronted Kray about it ..." The expression in his eyes hardens, and his hands tighten on his knees. "He didn't even try to deny it, and that made it even more terrible––that he admitted to what he'd done, and he was _proud_ of it."

A sick feeling curls in Lio's stomach, and he feels dizzy when he thinks about the atrocities that Kray committed against his people––the friends he saw reduced to nothing but ashes, the unfathomable anguish he felt when he was at the core of the Parnassus, bearing all of their pain at once. 

His vision goes red with fury, the same way it did the few times he was face-to-face with Kray Foresight. He fears that part of himself, this demon of fire who was ready to kill with no mercy despite all his promises that the Burnish would not take lives without reason. If Galo hadn't reminded him of that, Lio shudders to think what he might have done. 

He drags himself out of the dark train of thought, although his fingers still tremble a little. He finds that Galo looks equally furious at the memory of Kray's horrendous crimes, eyes blazing with contempt. 

"Not only that, but he––he basically told me it had all been a lie. All those years where he'd pretended to support me, he was just setting me up to fail. _Wanting_ me to fail––to die, even." Galo huffs out a noise that almost sounds like a laugh. "And that ... that was a big shock, you know? This guy I'd worshipped since I was a kid turned out to be a murderer, and on top of that he always just saw me as a nuisance and wanted me dead. It was like he became a total stranger all of a sudden."

Although Galo keeps his tone relatively flat, Lio can hear the slight waver to it that betrays the hurt underneath the words––and if he didn't despise Kray Foresight already, his hatred only multiplies. He wraps his arms so tightly around his knees that he can feel his muscles start to shake from the tension. 

Yes, he has to admit to himself, there was a time not long ago where he thought he hated Galo Thymos. But knowing Galo now, he can't imagine how someone could consider him nothing but an eyesore, how they could treat him so terribly. 

Sure, his personality can seem overbearing and even annoying at first, but underneath that is someone who genuinely wants to help others and cares about everyone else's wellbeing above all else––even the lives of total strangers, or the lives of people who have wronged him. His determination to save people was enough to literally protect everyone in the entire _world_ from the Promare’s flames when the surface of the planet burned ... How could you hate someone whose heart held that much sincerity? 

There are so many things Lio could say right now––most of them very unkind words about Kray Foresight––but after taking a moment to process and letting his anger die down a little, all he can say is, "I'm sorry." It comes out soft and hoarse, but he hopes Galo can tell he means it. 

"Sorry?" Galo repeats. "For what?"

"Just for ..." Lio searches for words, letting his hands drop to the ground at his sides as he stretches his legs out in front of himself. "I'm really sorry you had to go through that, and that Kray would say those things to you. But ... he was wrong, you know." 

He didn't really mean for that last sentence to slip out, but now Galo is staring at him expectantly and he feels like he needs to continue. As nervous as he feels to speak what's on his mind, he can't stand the thought of Galo thinking Kray was right about him. 

"You're not a nuisance, Galo." He’s a little surprised at the steady confidence with which he says it, but he pushes on, "And I know you looked up to Kray for a long time, but ... he was a horrible person, and his opinion of you really doesn't mean anything. All you've ever wanted to do is help people, and all he ever wanted to do was hurt and step on others just for his own glory. And then he had the nerve to say you were worthless and that he was a savior?" 

Lio almost sneers at the very thought, the irony of it is too much for him to even comprehend. "It's ridiculous. Frankly, he's always been a total coward. But you ... you're the hero that saved the whole world just because you cared so much about protecting people. He never could've done that."

He's almost out of breath when he finishes speaking, and he's a little shocked that he managed to say so much at once––and so is Galo, judging by the way his eyes widen as he sits up straight. But strangely enough, Lio doesn't feel as embarrassed as he might have expected. Instead he finds himself looking right at Galo with a steady gaze, as if to make a point of showing that he truly meant every word he said. 

For once, Galo is speechless. He opens his mouth as if he means to say something but then closes it again. It isn't until a few long moments later that his expression softens and he manages to say, "Thanks, Lio." There's a soft and genuine sincerity to it that Lio wasn't expecting. But before he can say anything else, Galo smiles at him and banishes all thoughts from his mind. "Although, I had a little help with the whole saving-the-world part."

Lio smiles timidly back, not really knowing what to say. He could say that he had no other choice, but he knows that isn’t strictly true. Sure, maybe they just happened to be in the right place at the right time—as Deus told them when they stumbled upon his underwater lab, he hadn’t _chosen_ them. Even so, Lio has never felt like it was completely random. It’s strange, because he’s never really believed in fate or destiny or any of that cosmic crap … but he kind of feels like he was meant to save the world with Galo Thymos. 

He's not sure when he stopped smiling, but Lio suddenly becomes aware that the expression has faded from his face. For some reason, he can't let go of that last thought as it echoes inside his mind. He feels a bit like he's been struck over the head and he worries that his panic is visible. 

But either Galo doesn't notice or chooses not to say anything about it––he seems preoccupied with thinking about something else, picking up a small twig from the ground near his foot and flicks it into the fire. 

"So, yeah. It really wasn't that hard to turn against Kray in the end––not after all the horrible stuff he did to the Burnish, and after he tried to kill me. And then when I got to the center of the Parnassus and saw what he'd done to you, I ..." He stops for a second, one hand clenching into a fist on his knee. "That was just ... the last straw, you know?" 

Lio stares at him, speechless, having not expected Galo to bring up the topic of his near death. Honestly he doesn't remember much of it himself––just a hazy, nightmarish sequence as he felt an unimaginable agony ripping through his whole body, as he heard himself screaming until he couldn't breathe, as he felt the tips of his fingers going numb as his own body started to disintegrate. Then an enormous explosion, like the sky itself had been torn in half, before everything went black. 

He can only imagine the condition Galo must have found him in––lifeless and turning to ashes on the ground. Until now, he hadn't thought it affected Galo much. But now seeing the glazed, haunted look in his eyes, Lio realizes how scary that must have been. And thinking about how he would have felt if it was the other way around … he can understand why it was so upsetting. 

"I'm sorry," he hears himself saying––and then doesn't quite realize that he said it out loud until Galo stares at him quizzically in response. "Not just for everything that happened with Kray, but that you, uh––that you ... had to see me like that. It must've been ..." He trails off, unable to find a word that seems fitting enough. 

"What? You don't need to apologize for that," Galo says with a frown, stating it as if it's completely obvious. "I mean, I was really worried when I first got to the center of the Parnassus 'cause I thought I was too late. You looked like you were––" He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. "And then of course Kray appeared before I could get to you, and by the time I'd dealt with him … you had almost totally disappeared.” 

There's a sudden hollow feeling in Lio's chest as he listens to Galo and hears how _guilty_ he sounds. "But you saved me," he says. "That's all that matters." 

It comes out more bluntly than he meant it to––but then again, it's the truth. And he wants––no, _needs_ ––Galo to know it. 

The words hang in the air between them, and Galo just sits there with a dumbstruck expression as if Lio just spoke in another language. Then, finally, he looks away again. 

"Yeah, well, I had to," he says, then clears his throat. "I––I mean, 'cause like ... I owed you. For how you saved me." 

Lio isn't even certain what he's referring to at first, before he quickly realizes that Galo means the flame that Lio used to protect him. He still doesn't know quite how he did it, but it's something he had never done for anyone else before. Not that Galo needs to know that. 

The memory has come back to haunt him again and again, the same way it is now. He won't ever forget the horror of watching Kray's wall of flame shoot towards Galo––Galo, who was totally defenseless but still stubbornly standing his ground. Lio can still feel Kray's crushing grip around him, how the air was practically squeezed from his lungs, how the heat of the flames made his eyes sting. He can hear how his own voice called out Galo's name in desperation, and then ... 

He still can't fully comprehend what happened after that. All he knows is that he was overcome with a blinding panic in that moment, watching helplessly as the roaring blaze sped right towards Galo. He felt something roar to life in the depths of his soul then, an all-consuming sensation that raced all the way to his extremities. 

Before he knew what was happening, there was a plume of flame escaping from him and racing to reach Galo before Kray's fire could consume him. It was a strange and somewhat painful sensation, like he had ripped out a part of himself and left a hollow space behind. 

But in that moment, his own wellbeing was the last of his concerns. 

Even now, remembering it makes Lio's stomach do an odd little flip. He feels weirdly ... self-conscious about it, and it's difficult to explain why. He doesn't think Galo knows how meaningful it was––that Lio wouldn't have done that for just anyone, that sacrificing a fraction of his own power might have had dangerous consequences for all he knew. 

He can’t tell Galo that, though, without exposing something that he himself doesn't fully understand yet. 

Instead he says, "I guess we're even, then." 

And Galo's expression is indiscernible for several long moments, before he blinks as if someone just shook him awake. An easy smile lights up his face. "Guess so," he says––but Lio could swear that there's a hint of hesitation to it, as if there's something else Galo is holding back. 

Whatever it is, he doesn’t say it. 

—

They sit for a long while next to the fire, although their conversation lightens up significantly as the night goes on. Lio finds that he’s content to listen to Galo talk about anything and everything, and could probably keep listening for hours on end if he needed to. He likes the way Galo fills the silence with his enthusiasm and his exaggerated stories, how he illustrates his words with excited hand gestures. It’s … comforting. 

A few months ago, Lio couldn't have seen himself even getting along with someone like Galo. But now, he's growing so accustomed to Galo's presence that it's difficult to remember what things were like before they met. When Lio was a Burnish and constantly on the run, he never had much time to just spend time with someone and get to know them––but he thinks, maybe, that's something he'd like to try.

After talking for a while, they eat the sandwiches that Galo packed for them. They then toast some marshmallows––something Lio has never done before but thoroughly enjoys. He eats more of them than he probably should, but he hardly cares.

Lio isn’t sure how much time has passed, but the sky has darkened and the flames of the fire are beginning to die down. When there's almost nothing left but the smoldering embers, Galo lets out a yawn and stretches his arms above his head. 

"We should probably get some sleep, huh?" 

A confusing combination of emotions stirs in Lio's stomach upon hearing those words. On the one hand, he's just beginning to realize how tired he is. But he's also suddenly struck with the realization that going to sleep means sharing a tent with Galo––a very small tent, where they'll probably be in very close quarters with each other. 

He's suddenly thankful for the darkness, praying that it's enough to mask the redness that's inevitably rising to his face.

"Right," he says. It sounds choked to his own ears, but hopefully Galo doesn't notice. He clears his throat. "We should probably put the fire out first, and then ... yeah." 

Galo is quiet for a moment, as if he expects Lio to say more. But after a brief silence, he just chuckles in response. "Put the fire out, huh? Well, at least _that's_ something I know how to do." 

They work together to get the task done, only speaking in small snatches. Otherwise, Galo just hums quietly to himself while Lio remains silent. Although at least helping to put out the fire gives him something else to focus on, it's hard to ignore the nagging sense of panic at the back of his mind. He can practically feel the presence of the tent standing in the near distance, like a shadow lurking at the corner of his vision.

When the fire has been reduced to ashes, Galo rubs his hands together. "Time for bed?" 

He sounds so nonchalant that Lio isn't sure what to feel. On the one hand, he's glad that Galo isn't making a big deal of it, or else that would make things all the more awkward. On the other hand, Lio has a heavy sensation in his gut that feels suspiciously like disappointment. 

"Lio?" Galo waves in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze. 

"Hmm? Oh ... yes. Sleep," he stammers, then nearly winces at how much he fumbled over the words. 

Galo doesn't seem to think anything of it, however, judging by the way the corner of his mouth twitches upward in amusement. "Man, you really zoned out there for a sec. You must be super tired." He gives Lio a firm pat on the back. "Well, nothing a little shut-eye can't help, right?" 

"Right." Lio practically chokes on the single word, and he can still feel the phantom sensation of Galo's hand against his back. 

His mind still feels like it's floating as they make their way over to the tent. Galo has a small flashlight that he uses to light the way, illuminating the rocky path in front of them. There's no sound except for the quiet crunch of their footsteps against the ground and the distant hooting of an owl somewhere far off in the woods. 

Before Lio knows it, he's climbing into the tent after Galo. If he wasn't already nervous about the small size of the tent, the feeling only intensifies now as Galo zips the tent flap shut behind them. He could swear it's even smaller than it looks from the outside, the space growing even more narrow as Lio moves over to make room for Galo as he ducks inside. 

"Sorry, I know it's not a whole lot of room," Galo says, kneeling down. There are two rolled-up sleeping bags in the corner, and he hands one of them to Lio. "And I know it's a little chilly out here too, but these sleeping bags are super insulated. Plus, I'm sure my burning soul will warm up the tent by a few degrees!" 

Lio legitimately can't tell if he's kidding about that last part or not––knowing Galo, probably not. Despite his gnawing sense of anxiety, he can feel himself smiling faintly.

"Thanks," he says, starting to unroll the sleeping bag. "And it's okay, I'm sure I'll be fine. I've had to sleep in worse places before." 

He meant it as just an offhand comment to assuage Galo's worries, so he's a bit surprised when it seems to catch Galo off-guard. Moments ago he was busy unfurling his own sleeping bag, but now Galo immediately stops what he's doing. When Lio spares a glance in his direction, he can see the concerned look on Galo's face faintly highlighted in the stark glow of the flashlight. 

"I'm sorry," he says––and if it was coming from anyone else, Lio would probably just dismiss it as empty pity. But when Galo says it, Lio knows he's being sincere. 

Something about it renders Lio speechless for a few long moments. His hands clench against the slippery fabric of the sleeping bag. "It's alright," he says at last. 

He expects Galo to just leave it at that, but instead he hears a lengthy pause before Galo lets out a sigh.

"It's not, though. It makes me so angry to think about how you and the other Burnish were treated, and to think I was a part of that ..." 

Lio was just starting to slide into his sleeping bag, but he stops short. He looks up to see that Galo is sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag as if he's forgotten it's even there, glaring at the ground. 

"Galo ..." Lio pauses, then takes a deep breath as he tries to come up with something to say. "Listen, it's not your fault. I mean, yeah, things were pretty horrible, but ... don't blame yourself. I'll admit, for a long time I just kinda lumped you guys in with Freeze Force, but they were more to blame than Burning Rescue was. You were just trying to protect people from our fires." 

"But it wasn't just that," Galo insists. "We might not have imprisoned any Burnish directly, but we still led a lot of you into Freeze Force's hands. And it's just ... I don't know. All I ever wanted to do was save people, and instead I played a part in the Burnish falling into Kray's clutches. And I don't think I can forgive myself for that." 

His sudden confession leaves Lio dumbfounded. Even though Galo continues to surprise him day after day, Lio wasn't expecting to see such a vulnerable side to him––or to find out Galo has been carrying around such an enormous sense of guilt––and he doesn't know how to respond. 

His movements are a bit restricted due to the sleeping bag around his legs, but Lio still manages to wriggle a little closer to look Galo more directly in the face. 

"Hey," he says. "Seriously, Galo. You can't keep beating yourself up. You didn't know what Kray was doing."

"But––"

"I know. I know it's not that simple, and ... I get it," Lio goes on haltingly. "I regret a lot of the stuff I did back then, too. But the point is, at the end of the day you did the right thing. You overthrew Kray, and you helped to save the world." _And you saved me, too_ , he wants to add, but he's brought up the topic once already tonight and doesn't think he has the guts to talk about it again. 

Lio doesn't consider himself to be the best at comforting people, and he doesn't really expect the words to get through to Galo. But after a moment, Galo smiles in response. 

"Thanks, Lio. That really ... That means a lot." 

There's a certain warmth to the words that makes a tingling feeling race up Lio's back. He settles deeper into the sleeping bag, hoping his face isn't going completely red. 

"You're welcome," he says, then starts to lie down. His heart feels like it's beating abnormally fast, and all he can think is that he needs this conversation to end before he says something he regrets––although what that is, exactly, he doesn't know. "Anyway, uh ... we should get some sleep." 

A short silence follows, before Galo says, "Yeah, guess you're right." Maybe Lio is imagining it, but he could swear there's a hint of disappointment in the words. There's a faint rustling as Galo slides into his own sleeping bag, then a small click as he turns off the flashlight and the inside of the tent goes completely dark. "G'night, Lio." 

"Good night." 

Lio closes his eyes. 

But he knows, right away, that sleep isn’t going to come easily––if at all. 

He's always been an insomniac, and a light sleeper on top of that. Years of being on the run––never knowing if an emergency or a Freeze Force raid will happen in the dead of night––has always made it difficult to fall asleep. 

Unfortunately, the anxiety doesn't seem to have worn off. Lio remains on high alert, attune to every small noise in his environment, even though there's no sign of a threat. There's hardly any sound besides the wind rustling in the trees and Galo breathing quietly next to him, and yet Lio feels goosebumps rise all over his body. Maybe it's just from the cold. 

He doesn't know how long he lies there, pulling the sleeping bag all the way up to his face and squeezing his eyes shut as he tries––and fails––to will himself to fall asleep. But after a while, he can sense that Galo is in a similar state of restlessness. He can hear the faint noises of Galo shifting his position a few times, turning this way and that––at first just a couple of times, but the sounds soon grow more frequent. 

When Galo turns over suddenly again, he accidentally kicks Lio in the ankle. 

" _Ow_!"

"Sorry, sorry." A short pause. "Hey, Lio. Are you still awake?" 

Lio doesn't bother to point out that he just exclaimed in pain when Galo kicked him, so _yes_ he's awake. Instead, he just lets out a short sigh. "Yes, I am." 

"Oh. Me too." 

"I figured––since, you know, you're talking and all." 

Galo huffs. "Hey, I could be talking in my sleep or something. You never know!"

"I guess," Lio concedes. He can't help the amused smirk that rises to his face. 

A short silence falls over them before Galo asks, "Do you usually have trouble sleeping?"

He sounds genuinely curious––not like he's trying to be nosy or anything––but the question still takes Lio by surprise. His smile falls as he tries to find a way to answer. 

"Sometimes," he admits at last. Vague enough that it's not too personal, but still an honest answer. "Why?" 

"I don't know, I was just wondering." Galo shifts around a bit more, his shoulder bumping against Lio's. "Is there any particular reason why? That is, why you have trouble sleeping?" 

Lio doesn't answer right away. He's suddenly very aware of their close proximity, and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up a little. 

"Sorry, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Galo says quickly, when Lio still hasn't responded. "If it's too personal––"

"It's okay," Lio cuts him off. He stares up at the darkness above them, and can make out the dim patterns of moonlight filtering through the top of the tent. "I was just thinking, 'cause there's a lot of different reasons. ... Like, when I was a criminal and all, I couldn't really allow myself to fall asleep too deeply. I always had to be at least somewhat alert in case something bad happened, in case I had to protect the other Burnish."

His hands curl up into fists inside his sleeping bag, and he tries not to think about how helpless he feels now when it comes to defending others. As a Burnish, he was powerful––he always had the Promare on his side. And now, he doesn't even have that anymore. 

"But there's other things, too," he continues at last, not wanting to get into the previous subject too deeply. "Like, you know, bad dreams and things like that."

Although he tries to say it dismissively, he can feel Galo go rigid next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Lio can see the faint outline of Galo's silhouette sitting up partially next to him. "Bad dreams?" he repeats––and there's a certain defiant edge to his voice all of a sudden, as if he thinks he can physically fight Lio's nightmares. 

"Yeah, you know ..." Lio lets out a short sigh, turning over so he's facing away from Galo––not that Galo can see his face in the darkness anyway. "Mostly ones about everything that happened in the Parnassus."

He doesn't need to elaborate––and he doesn't know if he could if he tried. It's impossible to put the horror into words, to describe the atrocity and agony he witnessed––both his own unimaginable pain, combined with that of all of the other Burnish. He can't count the number of times he's relived it in his dreams, woken up sweating and hyperventilating and holding his hands up to make sure they're not turning to ashes. 

The dark thoughts are almost enough to make him forget where he is, but he's reminded when he hears Galo shifting slightly closer. 

"I'm sorry, Lio. I didn't know that. I mean, I didn't know you had nightmares about it and stuff." 

Lio huffs out a breath as he curls his fingers into the fabric of his sleeping bag. "It's okay," he says at last. "It's not like I talk much about it."

He stops himself from continuing, even though he has a strange urge to keep going. Normally he wouldn't feel comfortable about admitting something so personal, but for some reason with Galo it feels ... different. 

Galo seems to consider it for a moment before he answers carefully, "Well ... you don't need to tell me about it if you don't want to. But also, if you ever do want to talk about that kinda stuff, you don't have to hide it from me." 

Something about those words strikes a chord in Lio, and on instinct he turns around again so he's facing Galo, and––oh. Galo is closer to him than he expected. Very, _very_ close. Lio still can't see his face in the darkness, but he can see the faint silhouette of Galo's form and can practically feel the heat radiating from him through both of their sleeping bags. 

Whatever Lio had been about to say immediately flees his mind, especially when he thinks he can feel Galo's breath against his face. He knows that he should probably move away, but instead finds himself completely frozen. An eternity seems to pass before he finds his voice again. 

"I ... thanks," he says. His mouth feels very dry, and he swallows. "I appreciate it." 

"No problem."

They both fall silent, neither of them speaking or moving. Lio is just starting to think that the conversation has ended for the night, when he hears Galo take in another deep breath like he's about to say something else. 

"You know ... it's kinda embarrassing to admit it, but if it makes you feel any better ... I get nightmares too, sometimes." 

That was about the last thing Lio expected him to say, and he feels his eyes widen slightly. He finds himself wishing it wasn't pitch black in the tent, and that he could see the expression on Galo's face right now. 

"You ..." The single word comes out hoarsely, and Lio clears his throat. "You do?" 

"Yeah." Galo releases a heavy sigh. There's a certain weight to the one syllable, like this is something he was terrified to admit, but also like it's a relief to voice it out loud. "It's weird, 'cause I didn't used to get them much. But ever since ... you know, everything, it's been happening more. And it probably sounds stupid, 'cause like ... I've faced a lot more dangerous things in real life, I probably shouldn't be freaked out by something that's not even real."

"It's not stupid. Even if it's not real, it still _feels_ real."

A short silence follows, and Lio wonders if maybe he said the wrong thing. But finally, Galo speaks up again. 

"Right, that's exactly it. In the moment, I don't know that it's just a dream, and that's what's so scary about it." He pauses before continuing. "You know ... I have a lot of bad dreams about everything that happened in Parnassus, too."

Lio's throat feels oddly tight when he answers, "Yeah?" 

"Yeah ... like, nightmares that we couldn't stop Kray, or ..." Galo draws in a breath and lets it out again. "Or that I couldn't save you." 

_Oh_. Lio suddenly feels like his heart has dropped into his stomach. He thinks of what they were talking about earlier, how his own near death affected Galo more than he realized. And now it pains him to think that Galo has _nightmares_ about it, that he relives that horrific moment over and over again but with a much worse outcome––one where Lio turns to ashes in his arms. 

Lio doesn't know what to say, and he doesn't know if there's anything he _can_ say that would be at all reassuring. So, he does the only thing he can think of to do––he slowly snakes one hand out of his sleeping bag, and he fumbles around for a moment before he finds Galo's hand lying between them and grasps onto it. 

He hears Galo inhale sharply next to him, and Lio briefly thinks about pulling away again. But the thought has barely crossed his mind before he feels Galo's hand shift underneath his, turning a bit so he can intertwine their fingers together. 

Lio tries to think past the confusing rush in his head, tries to think of any sort of comforting words he can provide. But the more he focuses on the grounding sensation of his fingers laced with Galo's, he thinks that maybe no words are needed, after all. Maybe this is enough––to just hold Galo's hand as a reminder that he's still here, still alive, still whole. 

The passing seconds seem to draw out for ages, as they continue to lie there with their hands linked together. At last, Galo says, "Wow ... your hands are _freezing_ , Lio." 

The comment breaks through the momentary tension, and Lio feels his muscles relax somewhat as he huffs in response.

"Well, yours are super warm," he says. He meant it to sound like a comeback, but it comes out sounding more like a compliment somehow. 

"Of course they are! It's my––"

"––Burning firefighter soul, I know," Lio completes the sentence for him, then can't help the soft laugh that escapes him. 

"What's so funny?" 

"Nothing." In a way, it's true. It's not necessarily anything _funny_ ––just that Lio has this strange and elated feeling all of a sudden, and he doesn't know how to contain it. 

"Anyway," he says at last, "I just ... I wanted to say thanks. For bringing me out here. This has been ... nice."

That doesn't feel like nearly a strong enough word to describe the whirlwind of emotions he's gone through in the past few hours, combined with the tangle of thoughts in his head that he can't seem to unravel. But he's also not lying. It has been nice. One of the nicest things he's gotten to do in months, really.

"Yeah, it's uh ... it's no problem," says Galo. He pauses before adding, "And thanks for coming with me. I think we both kinda needed it, huh?" 

Lio is acutely aware of how they're still holding hands, how he can feel the steady warmth radiating from Galo's palm against his. 

"Yeah," he finally says. "I think you're right." 

"Maybe ... we could do this again sometime?" 

There's a slight hesitation to the suggestion that seems almost uncharacteristic of Galo. But there's something endearing about it that makes an involuntary, soft smile rise to Lio's face again––even though he knows Galo can't see it in the dark. 

"We should," he says, and he swears he can feel Galo's fingers relax slightly in his.

A short silence passes, but it somehow manages to feel natural and almost calming rather than awkward. Lio's eyes start to drift shut of their own accord, as he grows accustomed to the small haven around them––the tent holding them inside, the distant sounds of the night lulling him into a sense of peace and security. 

Right before he succumbs to a peaceful oblivion, he thinks he hears Galo murmur, "G'night, Lio." 

He's not sure if he imagines it or not. But one thing he does know, as he falls asleep, is that they're still holding hands. 

–– 

When Lio slowly eases back into awareness, a soft golden light seeps into his eyes as they blink open. He doesn't quite remember where he is at first, until he sees the zippered outline of the tent flap and the early sunlight filtering through the thin material. 

The memories of last night come back in a sudden rush––and with that comes a confusing storm of emotions. It all feels a bit surreal, like something he dreamed and not something that actually happened.

But if he had any doubts about whether it was all real, those doubts are quickly assuaged when he tries to lift his head and realizes that it's resting against something solid and warm ... something moving up and down in a slow and steady rhythm. At the same time, he becomes aware of a firm pressure wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. 

If Lio wasn't already fully awake, he certainly is now. As the reality of his situation dawns on him, his pulse picks up and his breathing comes to a sudden stop. He shifts over a little just to confirm his suspicions ... which is when he sees that, just as he thought, his head is resting against Galo's chest and that Galo has an arm wrapped tightly around him. 

It takes a solid few seconds before Lio starts to release his breath––very slowly, so as not to make even the slightest noise. His mind races as he tries to determine how the two of them even ended up like this ... All he can remember is that he was holding Galo's hand when he drifted off––and that's already a lot for him to process––which means they must have moved even closer together in their sleep. 

As he takes in more of the details around him, he realizes they both somehow managed to wriggle about halfway out of their sleeping bags in the process. Lio would have expected himself to feel very cold as a result, but instead he feels so _warm_ ... warmer than he's ever felt since the Promare left him. 

The thought sparks an unusual feeling that makes his whole body go rigid. As he keeps lying there, as he keeps listening to Galo's heartbeat right underneath his ear, the sensation only grows more intense––like a wildfire that races through his veins and feels like it's about to burst from his fingertips. 

It occurs to him that it's the same feeling he experienced yesterday in the alleyway, where he could have sworn he felt the phantom remnants of the Promare still lingering in his blood. 

With a faint gasp, he starts to get up––but only manages to get about halfway there, propped up on one elbow, distracted by the sight of Galo right beside him. 

He still appears to be fast asleep, despite Lio's sudden movements. His face, which is usually so expressive, is still and peaceful. And Lio finds his gaze tracing each feature with care––the angle of his jawline, his dark eyelashes, the faint smattering of freckles on his skin, the way his ridiculous blue hair sticks out in every direction. He imagines following the same path with his fingertips, imagines gently cradling Galo’s jaw, imagines running his thumb along Galo’s lower lip …

His breath stills again as he breaks himself out of the train of thought. Galo’s arm slips from around his waist as Lio sits up all the way, his heart hammering.

He closes his eyes and opens them again, as if that will somehow make the world around him disappear, or at least dispel the reverie he just unexpectedly fell into. But he finds that he still can’t look away from Galo’s sleeping form, can’t rid himself of this new aching feeling in his bones.

Lio’s hand curls into a fist and he holds it against his chest, as if that will somehow slow down his erratic heartbeat. All he can do is sit there, bent over, trying to get himself under control again … but the efforts prove to be fruitless. 

He knew that sooner or later, he would need to confront these newly developed emotions––but he didn't expect it to be so sudden, at full force, like a tidal wave sweeping over him. Hell, he didn't think he would _ever_ have feelings like this for someone else––never thought it was something he had time for or something he wanted. 

... But _does_ he want it? Because it feels like someone just punched a hole through his chest, like he's falling and falling with nothing below to catch him. 

Especially because he's fairly certain Galo doesn't feel the same way about him. 

And he should be able to accept that, should realize that Galo would never want someone like him––someone so broken and volatile with barely any ability to voice his thoughts and emotions. Which is perfectly understandable. But the thought is unexpectedly painful, making Lio's vision swim as he digs his nails into his palms. He doesn't know what he wants to do. He wants to somehow rid himself of this feeling, to cry, to yell, to run, to ... 

He wants to burn. 

The feeling rushes through him like when he was trapped at the heart of a volcano, when he lost all control and completely succumbed to the power of the Promare. It's the same thing he felt yesterday, the same thing he felt just now when he woke up in Galo's arms––like the fire has returned, like any second he could go up in flames. 

All of a sudden, the confines of the tent feel suffocating. Lio feels a little dizzy as he lurches to his feet, as he stumbles around Galo and unzips the tent flap. The bright morning light pierces his eyes and he keeps running down the small path towards the edge of the lake. 

The fire pit is just as Lio and Galo left it the night before, the remaining wood dead and blackened, the ashes stirring in the faint breeze. Lio falls down on his knees a few feet away from it, trying to catch his breath. He had hoped that the fresh air would extinguish the phantom flames underneath his skin, but the heat just seems to grow and grow until he feels like he'll explode from it. 

Lio realizes he's still wearing Galo's red hoodie and he quickly shrugs it off, leaving only the loose white T-shirt he's wearing underneath, but it doesn't seem to make much of a difference. His vision is hazy as he holds up one of his hands in front of him, palm facing upwards and cupping the golden light of the sun. 

_Burn_.

It's stupid, he knows it is, but all he wishes he could do is summon the Promare again. He wishes he could feel the thrill of the unearthly fire racing through him, wishes he could use it to release all of his emotions at once, the way he used to be able to. 

"Come on," he says under his breath, experimentally rubbing two of his fingers together. He glares intensely, waiting for even a single spark to appear ... but just as before, nothing happens. 

Lio isn't sure how long he sits there, willing the fire to return to him, but finally he can feel the weight of defeat pressing down on him. A shuddering breath escapes him as he keeps staring at his shaking hand, even though he knows he's hoping for something impossible. 

The Promare isn't coming back. Not ever. He should know that, and yet his eyes still sting as the harsh truth settles over him. Even though he knows it to be true, a part of him has still woken up every morning hoping maybe––by some miracle––he would still have some remnant of it left. 

He continues to crouch there, hand held out in front of him, barely even registering his surroundings ... until he hears the faint crunch of hesitant footsteps, and then a shadow falls over him. 

Lio tenses, refusing to turn around even when he hears the steps come to a stop. He doesn't dare to look up. Maybe if he doesn't move at all, he'll just disappear. 

But he knows he can't delay the inevitable confrontation much longer––and so, hesitantly, he lifts his head and turns just enough to see Galo standing behind him. 

Galo is silhouetted against the sunrise behind him, so Lio has to blink a few times before he can see the expression on his face. But even then, Lio isn't quite sure how to interpret it. There's a slight furrow in Galo's brow, like he's trying very hard to figure something out as he looks down at Lio, looks at his outstretched hand. Lio can almost see the wheels turning in Galo's head as the realization slowly dawns on him. 

A heavy sense of shame comes over Lio then, his face heating with embarrassment. He feels mortified, pathetic, and his ears ring as he waits for Galo to break the silence––to ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing, to ridicule him, to say _something_ ...

But Galo is unusually silent, the look on his face shifting, a glimmer entering his eyes that Lio quite can't decipher ... but it looks almost like sadness. Or pity, maybe. Galo still says nothing, but his hands curl into loose fists at his sides like he's suddenly determined to do something. 

Lio is on the verge of snapping at him, to tell Galo to just leave him alone, to demand why he's still standing there. But he swallows the harsh words down as Galo takes a step forward, as he kneels down right next to Lio. 

And now Lio can't even seem to breathe. He could swear the atmosphere is thinning around them, that all the oxygen has been drawn from his lungs. Galo is so _close_ to him that one of his knees brushes against Lio's––and Lio doesn't even have time to recover from that before he feels Galo's hand against his upper arm, turning him around slightly so that they're actually face-to-face now. 

All thoughts flee from Lio's mind then, every instinct to run or to pull away quieted by the distracting sensation of Galo's calloused fingertips on his skin. He looks Lio right in the eye, with a somewhat hesitant expression like he's waiting for Lio to stop him. But stop him from doing what, Lio doesn't know, until ... 

Until Galo leans forward and kisses him. 

Lio is too shocked to move, to react, to even close his eyes. They're still sitting in kind of a strange position, both crouched on the ground, Lio half-turned towards Galo and frozen in place. Distantly he's aware of one of Galo's hands still gripping his arm and the other resting against his back ... but that seems almost insignificant compared to the gentle pressure against his mouth as Galo's lips brush against his. 

It feels like it lasts an eternity and also like it's over before it even began. One second Galo is kissing him and the next he's pulling away, his blue eyes blinking open as he stares back at Lio questioningly. 

He seems to be waiting for Lio to say something––but Lio can only stare back at him, dumbfounded, his face burning. All semblance of coherent thought has abandoned him, and he has no idea what to say.

He wants to ask Galo why he did that. He wants to tell him to do it again. 

Instead he blurts out, "What the hell?" 

He doesn't mean for it to come out so harshly, and he regrets the outburst when he sees the hopeful gleam flicker out of Galo's eyes. He lets go of Lio and holds his hands up defensively. Lio can still feel the ghost of Galo's touch lingering there and desperately wants it back again––but he's too afraid to voice it out loud, especially now that it feels like a sudden wall has gone up between them. 

"What?" Galo says. "It worked last time! I just thought ..." He trails off, his face reddening as he looks away and scratches the back of his neck. 

"Last time?" Lio repeats faintly, certain that his face is growing as red as Galo’s is right now. "What are you ... ?" 

He doesn't finish the question before it dies in his throat, as he realizes exactly what Galo means. He's talking about how he brought Lio back to life in the Parnassus, how he revived the dying flame inside of him. And just now, when he saw Lio trying to summon the Promare again, he must have thought ...

Lio isn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He lets out a short huff of breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Galo, that's not ... that was _different_ ," he says, stumbling over the words. "It doesn't work that way. You were carrying part of the Promare when that happened, but you don't have it anymore 'cause you gave it back to me. And now it's _gone_." 

He comes to a stop, feeling slightly out of breath. Galo just stares back at him, wide-eyed, as he seems to process everything Lio just said. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he looks down sheepishly. 

"Right, I––I guess I knew that. But I don't know, I thought that maybe ... maybe there was a bit of it left or ..." He trails off, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to help." 

Upon hearing the defeated tone of Galo's voice, Lio feels as if some invisible barrier around his heart starts to crumble and break. A lump of guilt forms in his throat as he begins to fully process the situation––that Galo just _kissed_ him ... and that instead of doing something reasonable or normal, Lio just snapped at him and has probably ruined everything. 

He struggles to find his voice. "Galo––" 

But Galo is already on his feet. "I'm sorry," he says again. "I'm just gonna ... yeah." Before Lio can protest, Galo is turning around and walking away towards the direction of the woods. 

Lio staggers to his feet, possessed by an urge to call out after Galo or follow him or _something_ ––but he stays glued to the spot, his voice caught in his throat, not knowing what to do as he watches Galo's retreating form before he wanders off between the trees and out of sight. 

Everything goes quiet, except for the distant chirping of birds greeting the dawn. A soft breeze stirs through the trees and blows a few strands of hair into Lio's face. But he only takes note of these things at the back of his mind; his surroundings feel surreal and far away, as if he's separated from them by a thick pane of glass. 

He's hardly even aware of his own physical form until he feels the cold start to set in. A shudder runs through him, and he rubs at his bare arms as he casts his gaze towards the ground. As he does so, he notices the flash of red near his feet where he dropped Galo’s hoodie earlier––and after a moment of hesitation, he bends down and picks it up again. 

The fabric is soft against his hands, still lingering with warmth. Lio’s fingers clench against it as his mind races through the morning’s events––about the feeling of waking up in the safety of Galo’s embrace, of the concerned and caring look in Galo’s eyes when he found Lio outside … of the fleeting brush of Galo’s lips against his. 

Absently, he reaches up one hand to touch his fingertips to his mouth, chasing after the ghost of the sensation. His heart is still racing as he looks up in the direction Galo disappeared in. A number of options trail through his mind––but he knows, ultimately, that only one thing feels like the right decision. He's had to go through years where he had few choices––where his life was dedicated to running, to burning, to fulfilling the desires that the Promare instilled in him. 

Now, without those confines, there's nothing stopping him from pursuing what he wants. And, with a newfound sense of resolve, he comes to the conclusion that he knows exactly what that is. 

Taking a deep breath, he pulls the red hoodie back on and sprints towards the woods. 

The forest is quiet, the tall pines towering on either side of him as he jogs to a stop and looks around in every direction. A brief panic overtakes him before he sees a flash of blue in the near distance. With his pulse still fluttering nervously, he moves towards it. 

When he's close enough, he can see that Galo is standing with his back towards Lio. Sunlight streams in long rays between the trees, illuminating Galo in a soft golden glow. 

He's muttering something to himself that Lio can't hear, and scrubbing his hands over his hair in that way he always does when he's frustrated. Something about the familiarity of the gesture makes a warm sense of fondness wash over Lio––and suddenly makes him feel even more certain about the decision he's made. 

Still, he feels a little lightheaded as he takes in a breath and says, "Galo." 

He intended to say it just to get Galo's attention, but it comes out with an unintentional sharp edge to it––like he's barking out a command. 

At any rate, it accomplishes its purpose of making Galo turn around in shock. When he sees Lio standing there, his shoulders tense and he looks away as he scratches the back of his head. 

"Oh … hey. Listen, we don't have to talk about––Lio?"

The last bit comes out hesitantly––and maybe with a slight hint of anxiety––as Lio strides purposefully forward without saying a word. Galo just watches him with wide eyes as if he's afraid Lio is about to punch him ... yet, as if he knows otherwise, he remains frozen to the spot. 

The distance between them narrows at a faster rate than Lio expected, before he's standing right in front of Galo. He has to tilt his chin up to look Galo in the face––God, why does he have to be so _stupidly_ tall?––before he reaches up to grab at the collar of Galo's T-shirt, pulling Galo down to his own height while he simultaneously rises on his toes to meet him halfway there. 

It’s almost the total opposite of how Galo kissed him—instead of a brief touch, it’s more of a collision. Lio kisses Galo hard, with everything he has, one hand sliding to the back of his neck to pull him even closer. Admittedly it’s a little clumsy—Lio doesn’t have much experience, after all—but Galo doesn’t seem to mind, judging by the way he begins to kiss Lio back. 

It isn’t long before they figure it out, finding a better angle and settling into it. The exchange of kisses softens somewhat, progressing from a hard press of their lips to a more gentle and steady rhythm. Lio can’t help the faint whine that escapes from him as his hands slide to rest on Galo’s solid shoulders. At the same time, Galo’s arms wrap around Lio’s waist and nearly lift him off the ground. 

When they pull apart, Lio blinks several times into the sunlight. He didn't realize until now how long his eyes have been closed, and it takes a second for him to adjust to the golden radiance again. 

And there at the center of it is Galo, practically haloed in the glow of morning. He stares back at Lio with a dazed expression on his face, mirroring Lio's own sense of disbelief. 

"I ..." Galo's voice comes out a bit hoarse, and he clears his throat. "I thought you said it wasn't going to work." 

Lio's already struggling to process what just happened, his head spinning and heart still going wild inside his ribcage. Galo's words don't register at first, and it takes him a second to understand. 

"Wait, did you think this was still about the ... ?" Lio starts to say, and then huffs out a breathless laugh. When Galo just gives him a perplexed look in return he continues, "That wasn't about trying to bring the Promare back, Galo. It was because I ... because I wanted to." 

Galo blinks, a hint of realization brightening his eyes. "Oh," he says quietly, and then breaks out into a crooked grin. 

Lio returns a soft smile of his own. He realizes then that they're still standing in very close proximity, Galo's arms still wrapped around Lio's waist and Lio's hands resting against Galo's chest. He can feel Galo's rapid heartbeat under his palms, can feel the comforting warmth that radiates from him––and all he can think is that he wants to remain in that warmth forever, like staying next to the glow of a fire in the middle of a cold desert night. 

“Also, um, for the record,” Galo says. “Earlier … that wasn’t just about trying to help you, either. But, I mean, I _did_ want to help you. It’s just … you know, it wasn’t the _only_ reason.” 

His nervous rambling only makes the fond warmth in Lio’s chest grow even stronger. “It’s okay, Galo. I know,” he says. His smile falters. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you like that, I was just … surprised.” 

“It’s alright,” Galo says with a wince. “I get it. I, um … probably should’ve asked you first.” He looks Lio up and down as if something else has suddenly occurred to him. “Are you okay, by the way? You just––you looked really sad when I found you. And I know you must miss the Promare a lot.” 

The genuine concern in his tone makes Lio’s eyes sting a little, but he manages a small nod. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he says. “I mean, you’re right … I do miss it sometimes. And the weird thing is, there’ve been a few times recently where I almost felt like it was back again.”

Galo’s eyes widen. “Really?” 

“Yeah, but I … I know it’s not. I know it’s gone.”

It almost physically hurts to say it out loud––but at the same time it feels … freeing, almost, like a weight is being lifted off his shoulders. He meets Galo’s gaze again, and can still feel a lingering heat running through his veins. 

And he thinks maybe he’s starting to understand. 

“Well, if it’s not _that_ ,” Galo says, “then what do you think it is?” 

That’s a big question––one that Lio is still trying to answer himself. Instead of offering a response, he takes a step forward to wrap his arms around Galo’s waist. Galo stiffens in surprise at the gesture, but then relaxes again as his fingers bury into the back of Lio’s hoodie. Lio leans into the embrace, resting his head against Galo’s chest.

“I don’t know what it is.” It’s mostly the truth. He does have an inkling of an idea, but it’s a little too enormous to describe in words––at least for now.

“But don’t worry,” he says, as a small and knowing smile rises to his face, as he leans closer into Galo’s warmth, and as Galo embraces him in return. “I’ll tell you as soon as I find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> the end! :'') thanks so much for reading, and as always i appreciate all comments, kudos, etc. you are also free to find me and scream about promare in any of the places below!
> 
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